It hurts to see all the young people there
I think I and many, including me, got their first picture of Jehovah’s Witnesses from Jonas Gardells “Never wipe tears without gloves”. In that description and in real reports, one has heard about the “service”, their outreach preaching work, the Kingdom Hall and and Jehovah’s worldview: the total submission. One has also heard about the view of queerness as satan’s power on earth and the exclusion of defectors.
I also think that many people, including me, have heard people around them mockingly refer to Jehovah’s as a crazy sect. But I didn’t have much insight into how the community is organized, what the worldview looks like, what the members actually are like and what they actually do.
That’s why my interest was piqued when, during the last week, I saw happy people with orange key chains that read “Eternal Happiness International Convention Stockholm 2026” basically everywhere in Stockholm. It turned out that Jehovah’s was going to hold an international convention here, at the 3Arena, with around 30,000 witnesses from all over the world. The interest deepened when, after a quick google, I saw that the convention was “open to all, free entrance, no collection”.
I looked at myself in the mirror and decided that, as a trans woman, I pass well enough not to be a victim of hate crime. I threw on a proper outfit with a blazer and a skirt that covered my knees and headed off.
Although Jehovah’s Witnesses, like so many other oppressive and undemocratic groups, has its origins in the USA, the Swedish I meet at the bag check on the way into the arena. Even if you also hear some other languages, it feels like many of the around 22,000 Swedish witnesses are there on Sunday. Since I don’t have a ribbon or badge that most believers seem to have, I stand out quite clearly as an outsider. Nevertheless, they are what I interpret as welcoming, everywhere I am greeted by smiles.
But the sweat on the hands and the pulse start already on the stairs up towards the bleachers. During the morning I read about the community’s view of queer people and non-believers. According to them, Satan was banished to earth around 1914 and it is his malice that is behind all that they see as evil in the world. Homosexuals and queers in general don’t really exist – it’s just the devil who seduced them. Much the same way they describe that darkness doesn’t exist, it’s just an absence of light.
Inside the arena, it is difficult to get a seat, the entire arena is packed with more or less interested listeners to the sermon that is delivered on stage. I am here because I want to find out if this community has found a community and a cure for the anxiety that many of us feel about the problems of the world today. It seems they have.
During the hours I am there, I hear almost no specific references to the world situation. What I hear instead are claims about why we feel insecure and lost – Satan, and how we can find the light, security and joy – Jehovah (god). The pearl of truth is Jehovah’s Witnesses and their translation of the Bible. But the various speeches are surprisingly bland. They are just repetitions of what their magazine the Watchtower, the only institution with authority to interpret the Bible, proclaims. It is fully lit in the arena and the audience reacts mildly but cheerfully. I feel a little disappointed that it is not an evangelical “mega church” with pyrotechnics that I visit. After the films with inspiring stories in the “lifetime movie” style that are played, controlled applause follows.
I have happened find yourself in the middle of a bunch of teenage boys playing games on their cell phones while an American representative speaks and have every sentence translated directly. An audience host comes and tells them off for littering. When we’re all about to sing, I stand up and calmly mime along, I don’t dare do anything else. Everything is completely normal in a way but the service flows in a different way into a paste because of the feeling that spreads in me as I sit and listen.
I’m becoming uncomfortable in my own body in a way I haven’t been in years. The first few years after I started presenting myself as a woman to the world consisted of the very exhausting practice of being constantly hyper-aware of the way people look at, and interpret, one’s person and appearance. It is also a constant analysis of whether one is safe in a given situation or not. It’s an experience that I think many who exist outside the white, heterosexual and male norm can relate to. After a lap in the crowd, I take a break inside the toilet to be able to breathe normally.
When I come out again, I realize how many young people and children are here. Young people whose entire lives will be marked by this, that they were involuntarily indoctrinated into this religion. As if questioning its teachings risk losing their families and connections. Who, if god forbid they were queer, risk losing everything they grew up with.
It hurts me so much and I decide to screw this up and go home. Outside stand those who protest the gathering and many of whom are ex-witnesses themselves. I am ashamed in front of them, because I disguised myself as a witness. I tear off my jacket, let my hair out, light a cigarette and wave appreciatively at them.
